Are they made from diamond dust?
You ever shop for bed skirts? I was killing time at a Bed, Bath & Beyond a bit back, thinking “Hey! We need some new bed skirts – I’ll just have a looksee in their linens dept.”
They started at $45 and went up from there. Correct me if I’m wrong, but it’s the bed perimeter x 15 inches of good fabric sewn onto a piece of crap fabric that actually sits on the box spring, right? Is the part that you can actually see made from spun gold or diamond dust? It’s just sheet fabric right? It doesn’t even have to be high-count sheet fabric – it’s not going to go anywhere close to your body, and at floor level who is going to say, “Hey, that’s 180 count fabric if ever I saw it”??
This is when not having energy pisses me off. If I had loads of energy I would just buy some cheap-ass sheets and make my own bed skirts. It’s not rocket surgery.
My present ennui is stopping me from saving money. I’m all about saving money and now here I am, on the verge of buying freaking bed skirts. And even if I did buy the bed skirts, just the thought of having to take the mattress and bedding off the box spring to then carefully smooth out the bed skirt seems too daunting a task.
So is this ennui that comes of moving to a new home and having accomplished the first round of renovations, or am I veering into depression territory? Is my peri-menopause truly kicking into high gear and fucking with my sanity now? ‘Cause either of those would be inconvenient.
What’s really concerning me is that I don’t want to go to movies. And going to movies for me is probably my most favourite activity in the world – 3 weeks out of the month. For the 4th week, I’m hormonal and all I want is sex, but those other 3 weeks, if I could see three movies a day in a movie theatre – I’d be in Heaven. So when David suggests that we go see a movie, and I can’t muster up the energy to leave the house, that’s a pretty big freaking red flag for me. Problem is, the signs of depression? Apathy, exhaustion, mental fog? Are remarkably like signs of Peri-menopause… depression, crashing fatigue, mental fog. Which are also remarkably like signs of Hypothyroidism… fatigue, depression, mental fog.
I feel like I’m playing hormonal roulette…
Place your bets! Place your bets!
Drowning once more in a pool of depression scares the shit out of me. So I refuse to do that. Not going to happen. This, I have decided, is all peri-menopause crap. My hormones have simply kicked into a higher gear of fucking with me – which, now that I’m aware and I know all the symptoms – I can counteract. Today, when I get home from work, I’m ironing for the first time since Christmas.
Baby steps, folks. Tomorrow I’ll unpack the last two boxes in my bedroom.